Page 15 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

She purrs, noticing my incredible arousal, and I’m almost inclined to ask her to come help me with it, but I remember what I said.

She’s a virgin, it has to be special, not here. Not in this prison.

It has to be somewhere I know we won’t be interrupted, somewhere I know we’ll both be safe too.

Here might be safe, for now. But I don’t like my chances. Partridge is sloppy, he’s missed so many things already.

I won’t have him responsible for taking care of Sophie. That’s my job now.

I just have to think of a way to get us both out.

Feeling myself jerk, about to come myself, I realize that I’ve been watching her as she cleans, thrashing my meat without even realizing it. The thick bead of my own near climax runs freely as I fight the urge I’ve had since the moment I saw her.

She wants to, I know she does. But like me, not here. She’s given me a taste of her paradise, I don’t want to sully its waters in a bulletproof hotel room.

Once she moves out into the other rooms, I have to follow her. Slipping out of my pants and into a robe, I feel a little more comfortable. It just feels more natural to be mostly naked with Sophie around.

She starts to vacuum, giving me coy little looks and I cock a brow or curl my lip with pleasure as I find I can actually start to arrange some of my thoughts as well as my mountain of files.

There’s something soothing about having her here, something I’ve never felt before. Within a matter of minutes, I see a section of one file and make instant connections with a whole bunch of other information.

It’s like she’s a lucky charm for me.

My biggest distraction might turn out to be my greatest asset.

Sophie cleans, and my eyes drift from her to my work for a while, must be a good half hour. Looking up I see she’s making her way from the kitchen area back towards the bedroom, we both smile a little.

I give her an encouraging nod, letting her know it’s okay if she goes ahead where I can’t watch. For a while at least.

“I’ll be right here,” I remind her, groaning with satisfaction again as I watch her behind sway as she walks away from me like it’s winking at me.

Teasing me.

The door clicks loudly, and before I can do anything, Partridge is in the doorway, flustered.

“Jesus, man can’t you knock?” I growl angrily.

I stand up, making sure my robe’s shut and Sophie’s out of sight, but Partridge seems to wound up to notice anything.

“The guard? Out front, where is he?” he asks me, his mouth dropping open with horror as he realizes he’s not at his post.

“How the hell should I know,” I snap back at him. “I’m locked in here, remember? And if he’s not out there, who was gonna let Sophie out? What if the damned building caught fire? I don’t like this anymore, Partridge, I want out. I’m gonna do things my way from now on,” I hear myself say, shouting at him now, my hands balled into fists.

The thought of Sophie being trapped or not able to get out if something ever happened, it’s too much for me.

Partridge collects himself, his eyes narrowing on me. “Sophie, eh?” he sneers, looking at me sideways, but we’re both interrupted by a noise, Partridge reaching into his jacket out of reflex.

It’s the guard, tucking his shirt into his pants, wearing a dreamy look that he might well have just borrowed from me or Sophie about a half-hour ago.

His face is flushed, his hair scattered.

Partridge is all over him, angry and with a million questions, but anyone could see at a glance what the guy’s been up to.

The question is, who’s his lucky partner if he’s guarding a mafia informant?

It makes me like it all even less, but at the same time, it gives me a very good idea.

If loverboy here has a habit of roughing up someone else’s bed while mine’s being made up, it could be the chance I need to getaway.

To get Sophie and me away from here, to start leading my own case, on my own terms.

I wait for Partridge to give the guard his dressing down, then once he’s gone back out into the hall to resume his post, I tell Partridge what I think about it all.

“See?” I ask him with nothing but spite in my voice. “It’s more than just no towels and bad food. You can’t even guarantee I’m being guarded at any hour of the day or night. How can you?”

Partridge opens his mouth to speak, but Sophie comes back into the room looking worried. Most likely from hearing me shouting.

She’s dressed again, and unlike our guard out front, no one would ever know what she’s really been doing with me in here for the past hour or more.

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